Wednesday, November 19, 2008

To Kill A Mosquito

I swore I would kill it the next time it passed by my line of sight. Nothing happened for the next second.

I put my legs down and raised them up at 45 degrees away from the ground, and I knew I must not move. Hence, I held my awkward position for as long as my untrained and “non-exercised” thighs could sustain me, which was for about 1 minute. I fixed my stare on my legs, and I forbade myself from even making a wink. Nothing happened either.

Frustrated, I decided to continue with my work.

Then it launched another attack.

That’s it! I’ve had enough. Since I couldn’t lure it to come out from its hiding place, I’ve decided to do what was within my own control.

I began kicking my legs furiously as I worked on my computer. My grandmother turned around, found me a funny sight to look at, and laughed.

“Your flesh is sweet,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, this mosquito is a very hungry one,” I added.

Within a span of about 15 minutes, I had collected an impressive number of bites - 9 in total. Since I couldn’t “get hold” of it, I decided to leave the place and I swore I’d smack the life out of that mosquito if I were to see it.

I really would kill it. 

I know, anyone would kill a mosquito when they see one. But, what comes as a natural thing wasn’t so for me. In the past, I wouldn’t have done that.

I didn’t dare to kill a mosquito. The thought of their blood smearing on my palms that came from their dead bodies, also stuck onto my palms was gross enough to make me do the unthinkable to many, but to me was the natural thing to do – I avoided the mosquitoes. Yes they bit me, but I “blew” them away from me.

No amount of scolding from my mother and sister would make me change my mind about killing a mosquito. In hindsight, I must have been a really stubborn girl back then, with no reasons or logic in wanting to do certain things and not wanting to do other things.

What happened over the years that gave me the courage to kill a mosquito? I really don’t know, and I didn’t know when the transformation happened. But it did.

Just like many other transformations that occurred unconsciously over the years. I’ve noticed many changes about myself that I wouldn’t have thought they would happen 10 years ago. The amazing part of these changes is I didn’t do anything to make them happen.

It wasn’t as if I was on a self-conscious journey toward change, or I had attended a course to effect that. I didn’t! Or maybe I did, and I didn’t realise it. 

I used to abhor the idea of eating alone. That stuck with me throughout my growing up days, and I was still the I’d-rather-starve-than-to-go-canteen-and-eat-alone gal when I was in NUS. What I’d do was I’d just grab a bun and go to a location (some empty tutorial rooms) where I would have the least chance of bumping into someone I knew and letting them see me eating alone. That was a very scary thought.

And when there was no choice I had to eat alone (not in school though) I somehow had this vivid imagination that the whole world was staring at this poor girl sitting at a table and eating her lunch with no companion, and they are pitying me as I was eating my bowl of fishball noodles with my head down.

Did the whole world stare at me, really?

Of course not. But I didn’t think so at that time.

Now, I enjoy sitting at a café, eating my lunch or dinner or just tea break and read a book, work on my computer or just simply, gazing on as the world passes by. I’m that comfortable with having just me as my companion.

What a world of difference this change has made.

Circumstances change a person. How is this of any importance in our lives? Plenty.

A close buddy of yours may suddenly find you a total stranger because the two of you are speaking different languages. A big change in your mindset toward something may cause the ire of your parents, who have seen you through your diaper changing days to you donning your graduate robe to your business suit.

Positive or negative, change is inevitable in our lives. How we embrace the positive changes and work on the negative ones requires not just effort, but in my opinion, some bits of wisdom too.

Which brings me to the born of this new great idea – I should write a new book.

Maybe 100 years later when I’m gone forever, it can be used as a school text book to teach our young generation about identity. I’ve already nailed down the title of the book. It is “To Kill A Mosquito”

P.S In case you aren’t aware yet, “To Kill A Mockingbird” has been my favourite book since I studied it for Literature in Secondary school. It’s a book that talks about racial prejudice and a man’s courage and determination to install change in the tight-fisted culture in where he stays. Hence, “To Kill A Mosquito” might then be an excellent title to mark my personal change haha

Friday, October 31, 2008

Customer Service Delight Or Disappointment?

I take my hat off to the taxi driver who took the initiative to install wireless modem in his vehicle. One action and he’s able to differentiate himself from the herd. He has transformed himself from a cab driver to a businessman.

He knows his target market well and what this specific group of people needs. He provides that need and hooks them. His customers are happy, and he’s happy.

But how many people can see beyond the investment he’s made? Not long ago we hear many noises complaining about the need to install seat belts that are eating up profits of small bus operators. Yet they fail to see that’s only a one-time investment, but the benefits from longer-term business and more referrals make them the ultimate winners at the end of the day.

Thinking 3 steps ahead of your customers, anticipate what want and provide for that need sounds like common sense and logical, yet in reality, it is not that commonly seen and experienced. That’s why that man has to be saluted for being so proactive and knowing how to tap into this group of business men who are truly time-starved.

If this is such a killer tactic, then why isn’t anyone doing this besides him? Are they only focused on their short-term issue of cost that they either didn’t see the long-term advantage; or they saw it but didn’t dare to do it because they fear that it won’t last and customers will flock away?

Perhaps this all boils down to one question: How hungry for business are they? I’m referring to all businesses and not taxi drivers.

Earlier, I brought my cable TV set-up box to a retailer near my home and was told that they have run out of stock. The shop assistant then offered to check for stocks at another outlet, and I was glad they have what I needed. But, I was to go there to get it myself.

I asked if they can bring it over to this outlet, and they said no because they were short of manpower. The man even told me that there is only one guy manning the shop. I gave him a look of disbelief as I knew there’s usually more than one person in the store. I voiced out my query and he felt that he had no choice but to call them again to request the stock transfer, only to be rejected a second time.

That’s it. I only had one option – go over to that outlet to get the box myself. They aren’t going to entertain a potential customer by providing a service. They’re simply telling me – take it or leave it. I left.

I doubt they’re hungry for business. Or maybe they aren’t earning a penny for extending such a service. Or maybe, they know they have the upper hand as I seem to be the one who’s desperate and not them. If this is the case, they could be right. So it all depends on how unhappy I am with them to decide if I’m going back to get the box when new stocks are in. 

I guess, when it comes to commodities, what wins customers over is customer service. The reason why I choose to buy a handset at a particular retail shop is not because it has a nicer set. It’s all the same, isn’t it? It’s because of their service.

Last night, I took a cab from Novotel Clarke Quay Hotel to Robertson Quay Hotel. Yes, laugh at my stupidity if you want for you’ll be totally forgiven for this. I’d like to hit myself too. It was only after I reached my destination then I knew how “near” these two places were. However, the taxi driver didn’t communicate this to me.

Because my sister and I were having sore feet from all the walking and searching, we decided to take a taxi. We ended up alighting at The Quayside. The taxi driver said he didn’t want to make one round, so he asked if he could drop us there, telling us the hotel is just next to it. I saw the sign reading “Gallery Hotel” and I repeated my destination. He said “yes, the two hotels are beside each other”. Fine, we alighted.

And we were lost.

After a few enquiries with passer-bys, bartenders and what-have-yous, more walking around and perspiration, we finally found the place. To my amazement, it was just across the river facing Novotel hotel. And we had made one big round to a wrong place. In 10 minutes, my wallet was $8 (thanks to the $3 CBD surcharge!) lesser for a trip that didn’t bring me to where I wanted to go.

Did the taxi driver provide a service that is worth that price I paid? In my opinion, absolutely no.

Which leads me to ponder over this question: How close is our PM Lee’s vision to have excellent customer service in this country as one of our unique selling points? Rather should I ask how far?

I Feel “Burned” After Watching

Stuart stood there waiting for me while I was in the restroom. When I came out, he told me he heard a few people walking past him and commenting that they “felt cheated”. Viola! They had voiced out my opinion. 

“Burn After Reading” should be burnt, really. I thought it was a comedy and was prepared to laugh till I cry, but I hadn’t prepare myself to be “shocked till I want to cry”.

I did have some hysterical moments, although they ended along with Brad Pitt’s premature demise in the movie.

George Clooney’s paranoia gave me the creeps, but his “childishness” probably tickled me more.

But nothing beats how ridiculous the movie ends. Actually I should have got the hint of the crappiness of the movie when the CIA head instructed Brad Pitt’s body to be burnt and disposed of, to the loud gasps of the two girls sitting at the pew next to me, along with mine. Gasp!

My disbelief rose when the two jokers actually drove to the Russian Embassy to trade off some “classified information” for money! I mean, Russian Embassy? Seeing Vladimir Putin’s portrait hanging on the wall is like the “icing on the cake” if I may put it this way. 

By the time the movie ended, I was totally disillusioned.

I had so made up my mind to watch this movie that I went all the way to see which cinema suited our time that day and went forth. At one point, I was slightly swayed by another show “Nights in Rodanthe”, but still I didn’t give up Brad Pitt and George Clooney.

“Burn After Reading” is all about expletives that replace the function of punctuation marks and mid-sentence pauses in most of the conversations, multi-triangle relationships and affairs and bizarre events that somehow found relevance with each other with an ultimate ending – to raise funds for a gym employee Linda Litzke (Frances McDormand) to pay for her extensive cosmetic surgery. So much for self-esteem!

Doing my best to be optimistic about this movie, I found consolation in the actors’ and actresses’ portrayal of those characters. Tilda Swinton has a convincing depiction of a “cold stuck-up bitch” as her lover’s wife describes to be while John Malkovich somehow manages to get me feeling he deserves the demotion more than anyone else does in the movie, not even the useless head of CIA. 

As for Brad Pitt, well, let’s just say he tickles me whenever he’s on-screen. So does George Clooney on certain scenes. As I’m writing this, I recall a movie review that said “Brad Pitt saved the movie”. Guess I see where this person’s coming from now.

I’m not even sure if I would recommend anyone going to watch this movie. But I guess, if it’s purely for entertainment, why not?

Just make sure that you’re prepared to watch something that just doesn’t make any sense at all.

So in a sense, it is a comedy after all. 

Friday, October 24, 2008

Boundaries From Dad

My dad should be given the “Meritorious Award”.

That day he was pestering me to teach him how to leave comments in a forum. My dad? Leaving comments? Only months ago I was showing him how to use the wireless modem to go online and check his email. But now, he was asking for directions on saying his piece on the internet.

Okay, this isn’t a big deal. Why the award?

He wasn’t learning about how to put smileys on a forum, but he wanted to voice out his opinion about current affairs on the Straits Times portal. The particular issue he was reading pertained to the news on a man who was fined for sleeping on the bench in a park.

I looked at him in astonishment, which seemed to please him tremendously. He prided on the fact that I was amazed with what he was about to do, as if he had found something that I hadn’t already known. I asked him what he wanted to say, but he chose to keep mum. Fine with it, because I knew fully well how “courageous” he is when it comes to such things.

He always prefers to err on the safe side of things. That is a nice way to put it actually. I don’t think he will like to be labelled as someone who is afraid to step on the toes of anyone with authority.

He can recite the names of all our Ministers and what their portfolios are by memory. He knows who our MPs in our neighbourhood are.

He’s the one who pesters us to put up the national flag during in August for our nation’s birthday celebration. He’s the one who reminds us to follow the traffic rules and “use the zebra crossing, girl”. I know it’s for our safety, but what he said later made me think twice: “Don’t let the police catch you. They’ll fine you.” OK, Dad, I got you.

When I was young, I love to tease him that the government should confer a “General” title on him and give him all the “stripes and crabs” to decorate his shirt. Guess what was his reaction? He merely laughed and waved my suggestion off, but his body language told me that he was actually considering that to be feasible! Gosh!

Looking back, I guess my character was somewhat influenced by him. I realised that I’m someone who will also draw boundaries quite clearly. I hold myself responsible for what I say online, and due to this, I seldom engage in words that are of an attacking nature. There are pros and cons to this I observed.

The advantages that come with it are articles that are more neutral based and hold more objectivity. The downside is probably the lack of controversy, which as we all know, tend to sell.

Well, I guess there are no two ways about it. Though I’d love to have the cake and eat it too, I can only wish for readers who appreciate my style of writing and sharing of my opinions! Which, fortunately, gauging by some emails sent to me, were still encouraging!

Thank you all for reading! Please feel free to leave some comments and let me hear you too. 

Monday, October 13, 2008

How To Light Up And Grab Attention Immediately!

I was engrossed in reading a book while the TV was playing the Taiwanese singing competition. Suddenly, I hear this sultry voice that gave the song she was singing a special touch. Involuntarily, I looked up. “She’s good,” I thought to myself.

Why did I do that? Because there was an immediate and intense attraction.

How many of us have experienced such an attraction before? Imagine this scene. You are somewhere chatting with your friends in a busy café, noises were everywhere. All of a sudden, the sound level dived. It’s as if everybody had stopped talking and doing something instead. You turned, and you saw what provoked the silence. It was a dashing, drop-dead gorgeous woman sauntering in, looking for a seat.

How many of us have had the chance to be “this woman”? Do you know how it feels like? Can you imagine how it would feel like?

I’m illustrating this scenario because it probably is one that is easiest for everyone to relate to, and say “Ah… I know what you’re talking about!” In fact, there are many other different examples that we can think of, events in life that evoke an immediate and strong reaction from other parties.

It’s what I call the “Light Up” factor – making someone extremely interested in you or what you are doing.

Do you have what it takes to light up?

If you are beginning to whine that “I don’t have the look of a celebrity,” or “I don’t have the voice to melt a woman,” then, I’d advise you to stop all these thoughts right now! They are toxins, they are only there to poison your mind and the only thing they ever do is to stop you from reaching your goal! Wipe them away from your mind now, and follow these 5 tips if you genuinely want to, at times, be the star of the moment. Just one moment, but it could just change your life.

5 Tips To Light Up

1. Magnify your best asset. Is it that pair of big, alluring eyes that captivates anyone who is within 100m radius from you? Or is it that hearty and infectious laughter? Identify it and use it to your advantage.

2. “Excuse me, what did you just say?” Do you have an outrageous quote that startles people when they first hear it? Or some knock-them-down theories that you came up with? There’s a guy got the attention of another girl when he stands up among a group and actually says that “I think I’m quite a handsome man”. Wows and whoas were heard, and many of them were just impressed with the “guts” as they put it, this guy has.

3. The seductive scent. Humans are more sensitive to scent that we consciously know about it. Because scents are embedded in our unconscious memory, we don’t pay much attention to it until it is being evoked when we smell something similar again in the future. Make use of this and carry a seductive (or manly) scent that will make people turn their heads and wonder where did that sweet-smelling aroma come from? [Tips for girls: don’t just think of perfume. How about shampoo?]

4. Be audacious. That’s right. Even if you are armed with the best weapon, but without the audacity to use it, it’s as good as sweeping all the talents and assets you have under the carpet. 

5. Create the stage! Why do you have to wait for opportunities to come? Why not create them? If you have a very alluring voice, take part in a singing competition! Or, whenever you attend a seminar, grab the microphone and asks a question. There is no such thing as unspotted talent – they are just not willing to come out to the fore to be seen.

Everyone has a unique selling point. Make use of what gifts you have been endowed with and bring out the light in you and shine! 

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

A-MEI – THE DIVA

By the end of it, I had thrown away all inhibitions and was tapping and swaying to the tunes and rocking rhythm. Finally, I’ve done it!

I had, an hour before, felt shy and embarrassed about waving my hands and shaking my butt. Would I be blocking people behind me? Would they find me too old to be so excited? Would I look silly waving my bare hands in the air with no glow stick?

But when the finale came, and the diva pranced around on stage, wheedling everyone to get up from their seats, dance, let our hair down and be absolutely wild, I jumped into the fray. The discomfort in my feet saved me from the act of jumping and pumping my fist in the air as she belted out the song that shot her to commercial fame.

Singaporeans have been said to be reserved and not as passionate as our other Asian counterparts, notably the Taiwanese and Chinese. Just measure the intensity of the screams on the decibel scale at any concert in these countries and it’s easy to see the gap.

But, I saw a different picture last Saturday, when I was at A-Mei’s concert. Screams, yells and periodic shouts of “I love you” were everywhere. A-Mei, the Taiwan queen of pops (in my opinion) was here to perform a second time as part of the route for her Star Tour. She was ecstatic, and she didn’t hesitate to tell all her Singapore fans that, “this Star Tour has not complete its round, and I’m now back at Singapore for the 2nd time!” to wild screams.

She certainly knows her way to cajole her crowd, as she continued, “I might as well just stay here and finish the remaining rounds! I’ll just sing in Singapore!” The stadium went crazy.

For 3 hours, she single-handedly sang. There was no special guest appearance to relieve her for some twenty to thirty minutes. She just springs to stage, sings and dances, returns to backstage for a change of costumes, and back to stage again. One has to be impressed and amazed by her singing prowess, that by the end of the 3 hours stint, she was still able to reach all her high notes almost effortlessly.

This is the second time I’ve attended Zhang Hui Mei’s aka A-Mei’s concert. The first time was more than 10 years ago, in 1997, also to a fully-packed stadium. I was itching to know how many people was there that night. To be able to hold a sold-out concert is no mean feat. A google search gave me the answer – a sold-out crowd translates to 10,000 people packed in one place especially for one person!

A-Mei didn’t have it any easier, because the stage faced all 4 sides. She had to cater to each side so that no fans would ever feel neglected. And she did a great job – at “inciting friendly competition” among all 4 sides to see where she should head to or spend more time with. It all depends on how loudly fans scream and how passionate we all are.

In certain concerts, I’ve seen the distribution of screams was indeed skewed. One particular side would, somehow or rather, miraculously contained exceptionally enthusiastic, fervent and crazy fans with their fanatical screeches and out-loud declarations of affection for their idol. It was no wonder that their idol would repay their efforts by giving them more “face time”.

A-Mei’s concert, compared to Jeff Chang’s, whose was held earlier this year, was like two different ends of the pole. While the former thrives on loudness and the hip factor, the latter glides with flowing melodies and soothing vocals.

I enjoyed both concerts tremendously, though they were completely different. A-Mei’s powerful and influential vocals have proved that she is, indeed the diva of MandoPop. Jeff’s lilting rendition of his songs doesn’t make me go ga-ga like A-Mei, but they make me smile and, may I add, the irresistible urge to want to place my hands over my chest and drown in the songs, feeling deeply satisfied.

Now, I just need to remind myself that the next time I’m going to a concert that rocks, I’ll arm myself with the glowing neon sticks and a superbly good whistle-blower. Oh, plus a comfortable blue suede shoe. 

Saturday, October 04, 2008

Love, Dream, Music

“If you really don’t like the plot or the movie, at least, just go and enjoy the music,” I urged my friends.

“Is it really good?” one of them asked again.

“Yes, and go catch up before she gives birth,” I replied, pointing to his wife sitting beside him, with her big round tummy peeking up from the table where I was sitting.

I was wildly promoting the movie “Mamma Mia!” to them yesterday over dinner. Like I said, even if you find the plot somewhat incredible, the acting not as great, the music is always there to save the show. But, really, in my opinion, the plot is passable, the acting is superb (who can fault Meryl Streep?) and the music is absolutely mesmerising. Oh, I should leave that word to describe the sea!

There were too many reasons prompting me to watch this show. At the top of the list was the location of the shoot – Greece. Gosh, you don’t know how crazy I am over this country. I love Greek so much that I desperately wanted to dress like one for my wedding. In the end, my designer did his best to give me an evening gown that shows off a multi-purpose top with a fiery, red Spanish colour, Of course, I gave my top a toga twist, to add in that Greeky touch.

The other reasons were of course, the cast plus the songs! I was already tapping to the tunes of “Dancing Queen” during the trailers, so how could I ever miss this for the world? The fact that I can eat popcorns and watch it on the big screen is the last puller.

I wasn’t disappointed at all. Though Stuart said the movie was nowhere comparable to the real musical when he caught during their performance in Singapore in 2005, he too agreed with me that it was certainly a value for money movie.

Amanda Seyfried who plays Sophie, the bride-to-be and daughter of Donna (Meryl Streep) looks so lovely and delightful in her Greek wedding dress! I gushed at the way she looked and giggled to Stuart “that’s exactly the way I wanted to look!” She sings beautifully as well.

In fact, the ability of the cast to pull off the songs at such a capacity impresses me.

Sophie is on the quest to know her biological father, a mystery that even her mother is clueless on. The only clue they have is he is definitely one of the three men whom Donna had, with each, a short-lived and yet absolutely mind-blowing whirlwind romance.

So, which of the three – Bill Anderson (Stellan Skarsgard), Sam Carmichael (Pierce Brosnan), Harry Bright (Colin Firth) – is the father of the 20 year old bride?

The sun, the sea, the beach, the girls, the boys, the women, the men and lastly, the music are all to be keenly watched out for in this 2-hour movie Mamma Mia!.

I can feel the love between Sophie and her fiancé, and I can feel the deep relationship shared between her mother and her two best friends, who banded together to call themselves the “Dynamo Sisters”. The chemistry between them and how they gel together so well when each of them can be so different as individuals reminds me of how girlfriends are so important in our lives, and the best ones are usually found and made during our school days.

Perhaps the intensity of the love shared between Donna and Sam is best reflected when she expresses her innermost feelings – the huge struggle between wanting him and not being able to want him – in the song she sings at the cliff, on the way to the church. Stuart was so touched by it that he, well, shed some manly tears.

See! Now tell me if this movie isn’t worth you watching.

Besides love, there is also a dream that each of them bears. And that is probably what gives this plot that magical touch – a dream. All of us have a dream with us. It can be born during our childhood, or it can be unearthed as we journey on in our lives. But, I believe everyone has a dream, and to be able to realise it is something that invokes a passionate emotion in us. 

As I told Stuart at the end of the movie, “I think Pierce Brosnan is the only person who probably shouldn’t be singing.” But, he more than made up for it with his suave, charming looks and his oh-so-man eyes. That’s why, I’m still happy.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Charming Lake Toba

7 days before this post…

Lake Toba, here we come!

7 days after the day I’m back…

I love the lake.

I love the sight of an expanse of water, yet I fear it. The mysterious nature of the sea, even this lake, makes me shudder, yet peaceful at the same time. I know, I must be a two-headed strange creature. No, if you are guessing, I’m not a Gemini. But when it comes to my love-fear relationship with the sea, I guess I’m pretty close to being one.

I dreamt of Lake Toba last night. There was a huge storm approaching, and I could see several tornado-like strips of water coming towards the shore, where a few people and I were at, at a furious speed. As they came closer, suddenly an extremely huge and tall tsunami was caused. The waves crashed against the shore. I was screaming.

Dreams are usually the opposites of reality, as what many people have told me. So, that Lake Toba in my dream was truly a far cry from the real one. In the day, the lake was very still – my definition of a lake. As evening approaches, the waters start to get choppy as the wind gets stronger. When it rains, the waves are much bigger and stronger too. This, is Stuart’s definition of a lake.

“Lakes have to be still, that’s why they’re call lakes,” I told Stuart. “If the water is so choppy, it should be the sea, and not a lake.”

My idea of a lake is still, tranquil and just quiet. One can sit in a rowing boat, paddle out there and possibly read a book. That would be the ideal way to enjoy a lake. 

Obviously, the others have a starkly different opinion. They dive into the lake and swim. Some even brought their own snorkelling gear and began their lake odyssey. And some locals clearly take the lake as a ready bath. This is how they enjoy the lake.

We see locals cruising by in a sampan at different times of the day. They are fishermen. And they usually work alone. Do you know that the lake boasts of many breeds of fish, and red snapper is one of them? Yes! That’s what the local told us. So, the red snapper we find on the menu is 100% authentic Lake Toba Snapper! Cool, right? 

Stuart and I stayed at one of the accommodation places on Samosir Island, an island the size of Singapore right smack at the middle of the lake. I was amazed at the number of people coming and going. Lake Toba, to my knowledge, wasn’t as strongly marketed as other resorts, especially those in Bali. Yet, there is no lack of tourists visiting this picturesque place, with the majority of them coming from Europe.

The living condition was pretty good if we don’t compare it to a hotel. Why did I mention a hotel? Because the idiotic me, had thought that it would resemble one.

“You come to this place as if you’re coming to a 5-star hotel,” Stuart teased me sarcastically. You see, I didn’t pack in my toiletries, and bath towel. We had to resort to buying toothbrush, toothpaste and shampoo from them.

But the village life there made the whole atmosphere so nostalgic for me! So I am not complaining about the lack of amenities, since a village life is supposed to be like this, right? Actually, to confess here, it’s just the absence of spa that I miss, really. They do have a ping pong table, a pool table and a number of movie titles that you can choose to play at your own time. But, I hesitate to comment about the condition of these playthings.

I am not lying when I say the place makes me nostalgic. Watching the local kids playing outside, the chickens roaming around and the houses makes me recall some of the days I spent in Malaysia when I was a child. My mother would bring my sister and I to visit her parents who were staying at Muar during Chinese New Year. And that feeling was exactly the same I got when I was at Lake Toba. Nice.

Food there is like in Singapore. I mean the price. Fortunately for us, the bar and restaurant (one place) serves very great local Indonesian food. It’s really good, and I ate that for every meal I was there. To give you an idea, a glass of red wine costs 50,000rps, which is about S$8.30, while a plate of mee goring costs approximately S$3.30.

The weather was generally cloudy with bouts of rain on some days. Hence, we missed a possibly great chance to soak under a blanket of stars at night. Since there was nothing much to do there, we did nothing. Sleeping, strolling, reading, writing – four main activities we engaged in. How can we not be relaxed with such an itinerary?

But, we weren’t complaining, because that was exactly what we went for, and why we chose Lake Toba. Right now as I’m writing this, I realised that I am missing the quietness and beauty of the lake sorely. 

I’m sure there must be quite a number of repeat visitors, as much as I’m sure anyone who has been there will surely be bowled over the lake’s bountiful charm and charisma.

If there was one thing that would seriously defer me from visiting this charming lake, it’s got to be the traffic. That journey from and to the airport can be such a killjoy, seriously.

More photos can be found on my blog Kloudiia’s blog. If you’re keen, please pop by and have a look! 

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

From Lantern To Mooncake Festival

It was the 15th of the Lunar month of August - a special festival that would light our nights with lots of happy feelings. Some (or is it only me?) call it the Lantern Festival, while others call it the Mooncake Festival. Or, the most formal name would probably be the Mid-Autumn Festival.

True to what Shakespeare said in “Romeo and Juliet” - “A rose by any other name can smell as sweet” - regardless of what this festival’s name goes by, my feelings for it remains.

However, and with much regret, the feelings associated with this occasion is more nostalgic than ever, as I celebrate it year after year. Nothing seems to bring more excitement to me than when I was a young kid having fun on this day.

I must have been around 10 years old then. I remembered we stayed in a shop house along Upper Bt. Timah Road, and we had a long stretch of a sandy road that ran across all the shop houses along the street behind where we lived. On the 15th day, when the sparkling white moon would be shining ever brightly in the sky, I, together with my neighbourhood friends would be out on that road rejoicing in the celebrations.

The adults would take the mooncakes out and sit on makeshift chairs. The young ones would busy themselves with lighting up their lanterns and running around. No, we didn’t do much running then for fear of the fire being gushed out from the breeze created. Hence, much to the adults’ satisfaction, we actually strolled.

At that time, the lanterns didn’t have “La Bamba” songs, or those battery-operated lights that replaced the traditional candles. Until one year when one kid actually carried that, and all of us crowded around her to check out this new toy. But, because there wasn’t any fire, our enthusiasm fizzled out as fast as it came.

Not everyone had enough money to buy a lantern, and those who didn’t have one didn’t find that a reason to be despondent. You know, kids growing up in a less technology-consumed era tend to be more innovative when it comes to self-entertainment. We found some bamboo sticks and lighted candles on it and carried them as if they were lanterns. In fact, this became even more popular than the real lanterns, and even those who had a lantern also came and join in the fun. That also meant that we strolled even slower as now the flames had got no shade over it.

Parents would sit there, eating the mooncakes while drinking tea and chat. When the weather turned more humid, they would whip out their paper fans and offer themselves some cool air. Occasionally, they would shout to the kids to be careful as we were, literally, playing with fire. Now you know why I have special fond feelings towards this festival? Besides that day, when would we ever have the chance to play with fire?

Because there wasn’t any lampposts along that road, therefore our lanterns and candles turned what used to be a dark, scary night (really, I used to be so scared of that road because it was almost completely dark, save for some weak light that streamed out from some houses) into a sea of glowing radiance. The colourful lights not only made the street look warmer, it also injected a gush of life into it.

Everyone was all smiles and laughter. Everyone, from the young to the old, was enjoying themselves. We could see it all in their faces. And now as I’m writing, I thought I can vaguely hear them all.

When it was time to go back, the kids, me included, very reluctantly blow off the candles, packed all our stuff and went home. But you could easily hear the excited chatter continuing as each family retreated back to their homes.

As the society modernises, and all of us had to relocate from that place to make way for new buildings, that kind of celebration among a community seems to be uprooted at the same time. Though we can still find large scale lantern and mooncake parties going on in housing estates and other public venues like the Mandarin Garden, they are and will never be the same as those good ole’ days.

And I have also slowly faded out from these celebrations. I still get thrilled when I knew the moon is coming out soon in full bloom in this particular month, but it would be for other reasons, and that level of anticipation is a far cry from what I used to have when I was staying in the shop house.

Now, I’m referring it more to the Mooncake Festival. I believe it’s easy to guess why.

And by the way, this year, I celebrated with some church friends over the most unlikely places of all – singing karaoke. But, we had our mooncakes, thanks to my sister who brought it along! 

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Learning Again and Again

Let me think? When did I learn typing? Hmm… I remembered that my secondary school friends signed up for the course at Bukit Timah. At that time, PC had been invented, but a typing course had to be done on the real typewriter, not the soft and easy-to-type-on keyboard.

Yes, the type that needed huge muscle mass to carry around because they weren’t meant to be portable. If I recalled rightly, at that time electronic ones were already available, but it came at a pretty high cost.

Typing on such a typewriter was like learning how to play the piano – placement of our fingers was of importance. We had to use the tip of our fingers, angled at 90 degrees with the palm, and press the keys down. The larger surface area of our fingers that came into contact with the keys, the slower the speed and the more mistakes will be made.

Mind you, there was no backspace key to delete any errors. The alphabets came out as you typed. With the exception of the electronic ones where we could pre-check up to a sentence before we hit the “Enter” key.

In a bid to save money, I cajoled my friends to let me have the textbook. I photocopied it, and had my own book!

Excitedly, I ran home to start learning. But, I had a problem. There was no typewriter! I pouted, and sat there looking for a solution. When there is a will, there is a way.

I laid out my “virtual typewriter” and frantically practiced my typing on the table. Though the keys were imaginary, but my effort in learning was as real as it got.

“asdf jkl asdf jkl asdf jkl … … …”

This was the first set of fingering I learnt. Hmm… it looked rather easy, I thought. Well, most things seemed easy to pick up at that age. I was probably about 14 years old then.

“asdfg hjkl; asdfg hjkl; asdfg hjkl; … … … ”

Still easy. Very soon, I zoomed past a few more pages and was happily “typing” away at the speed of light. I decided to call my friend and checked on their status. Well, apparently they were behind me. I was progressing ahead of their class!

Of course, I had to. It was the school holidays and I had practically nothing to do except learning and practising how to type all day. Yes, I can be super addicted when I’m focused on learning one thing.

I had a fairly easy time mastering the skill. Easy, until the real thing came.

My mum’s friend, upon knowing of my new hobby, volunteered to give me her spare typewriter, which was sitting at her home and collecting dust. She had a new electronic one, and was happy to dispose off the older one. And for a good cause.

I was so excited and agreed immediately to house that newly-orphaned typewriter. Boy! Was it heavy! Lugging it home was just the appetiser, as I soon was to find out.

When I laid it out on the table, all ready to punch furiously away at the keys to test my newly-acquired typing skills, I was in for a shock.

Why weren’t there any letters? I checked the ink ribbon and got my fingers all black. Good, there was ink.

Then I typed again, this time I hit it real hard. Dang! Yes, the letters came out! Whoa! I was very hyped up, and resumed typing the passages given for practise.

It took me sooo long to finish a paragraph. By the time I finished, my pinkies were almost gone. In the end, I had to use my third finger to replace my pinkie, which was awkward but doable. Plus, there was always the risk of pushing my entire finger in the spaces between the keys. Ouch! It was painful!

Check these out:

This ...

versus this…

Then I understood why my friends were so slow in the learning process. Because typing on that ancient thing was no easy task at all! My virtual typewriter was just that, virtual!

Though hard, I wasn’t the least bit deterred. I practised non-stop, and eventually built up some strength in my fingers and my pinkies. When my fingering was more or less stable, I stepped up on my speed.

Moving on to now, I no longer had to exercise so much strength to finish typing an article. My speed shot up, and my familiarity with the keyboard went up too. But, instead of being a better typist, to my horror I realised that I had deteriorated. My fingers had, somehow along the way got conditioned to a certain sequence.

For example, I had the tendency to hit the “e” and “a” keys rather unnecessarily. I’m sure it was because they came in almost every other letter. No wonder they are known as vowels. And there were other mistakes that were very commonly made all the time, like “the”, “other” and any words that contain double “r”, “s” or “t”.

At first it was bearable, but now I have to admit, rather embarrassingly, that the rate at which I am making typo errors is causing me quite a headache. It not only slows down my speed, it is creating havoc on my efficiency! I had to delete the words that I typed wrong again, and again, and again. It could get to the ultimate rate of 1/3 of a sentence.

Believe it or not, “to” has been almost, always typed as “ot”. How bad can this go further? I got frustrated.

What can I do about it? The only option I guess is – to relearn the whole skill again.

Yes. I’ve finally come to the point of this post. We always thought that after we picked up a skill, and when we keep using it over and over again, the only way to see it is it becomes better and better.

During this process, we unconsciously got conditioned by several factors. Some can be good, while some aren’t really necessary for our growth. Therefore, if we don’t keep ourselves on our toes, there is a high tendency that we will just stray from our paths and go haywire.

We can see this in how people run their businesses, especially from start-ups to the stage when they are growing and expanding. We can see this in relationship as well. How people can grow so accustomed to one way of communicating that they are immune to the fact that their partners have outgrown that particular stage they used to be in.

On a bright side, this isn’t a big problem. It’s not as if we lack the skills to begin with. We have them, but what we need to do is constantly monitor it, see how it fits into our present circumstances, notice the mistakes that we are making, and we continue practising. If it has come to the stage where the need for re-learning from the beginning is warranted, then do not deny it. Acknowledge that it has happened, and just do it.

As for me, I’ve identified some online sites that teach typing. How nice to be able to learn using a notebook now. And the course is free! That means, I no longer have to snoop around with a “borrowed” textbook! What a lucky thing there was nothing called copyright then.

Ok, have fun with the learning, and re-learning, and re-learning. I’m off to my typing course! Last check, my speed was 98wpm (words per minute). Not bad really. I just need to clean up the accuracy, which as it stands now, erh… I’d rather not mention it.   

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

There Are Two Types Of Men Who Gain Weight…

I noticed that guys tend to put on weight after they ORD. Not all, but enough to form a general trend of kilos are being piled up post-NS faster than they were shed during NS.

If we take a look over a man’s lifespan, it’s not hard to find that they’re probably at their fittest during pre-tertiary days till serving NS. After that, those who kept in shape either do it out of a pure interest in their health, or vanity or they have to due to the nature of their profession, like gym instructors or celebrities.

But nowhere have we heard about guys who keep fit for love, have we? I haven’t. But it’s easy to hear scores of tales about how women spend time and money to keep their figure in shape and their appearance shapely so that they can keep the hearts of their men.

In fact, the opposite happens. When men got attached, their waistlines tend to increase together with their love for their gals, albeit at a different pace. They let down their guard completely when the relationship is inked in a certificate and recorded in a place called the Registry of Marriage.

Is love really the taboo for men’s fitness? Why is that so? Can this trend be reversed?

Not impossible, but hardly easy.

For one, women rarely marry a man because he looks so awfully gorgeous. Hunks with iron bods are great eye candies, but they are good for an ogling feast only. The fact that the women’s husbands are willing to put on an extra kilo just so they can save their tummy from bulging an inch is always deemed to be an eminent display of love. Why would they want to scrap this show of affection?

Therefore, as the waist line grows, the love grows too. But at least, these guys are the fortunate ones, because they are usually the ones being envied at.

By who?

By this group of guys who also get their bellies protruding by the day but without the love of another in return. So sad…

They bust their butts off during working hours, and drink their hearts out during happy hours. They eat late at night, either in the name of client entertainment or buddies bonding.

They lead an almost sedentary lifestyle. And when it’s almost that time of the year, some pack their running shoes and head to the tracks for a jog and some chin-ups, while adding in some curses and swears. The others? They pray and hope that some miracles will happen on the day they go for their annual IPPT. How about a sudden snowstorm? 

Late night outs, heavy drinking (and for some, smoking too) and high work stress show in their rotundness. When they realise they are in trouble is when they get rejected by some girls who do think that looks matter. And a fit body rules! 

Which man would you rather choose to be? Gaining weight over eating your beloved’s extra food, or in some drinking holes that neither offer you emotional comfort nor physical peace?
I’d say being the former is still the favourite choice.

But it doesn’t have to be like this! Men have every responsibility to attract your partners even if you have been married for donkey years!

Just because women aren’t only attracted to men’s physical outlook doesn’t mean they totally don’t care. I’m sure they’ll appreciate if you were to tell them that you are exercising to trim down that spare tyre a little so that you will look good beside her. Or letting her know that you are putting in effort to charm her because she is worth you doing it.

Plus though there is a valid and loving reason (great to hug and cuddle!) to not be so mindful about the way they look after they are married, men still need to watch out due to health.

I do! That’s why I’m always reminding myself and my hubby to watch what we eat. If I like him to stay in shape, I can’t allow myself to stray too far too, right?

You may like to take all these with a pinch of salt. It all started with a crazy idea, and I thought it would be fun to blog about this. Though not all men behave like what has been mentioned above, there are a comfortable number who do belong to this camp.

Oh, of course, there is the third type. Spun by love and constantly rejected for dates, these guys find solace in food. And don’t we all know that the more they gorge, they less dates they are likely to get?

If you are in the company of this third type of man, please do him a favour and get him to recognise his situation. Seeking professional assistance like having a coach to work with him on getting dates and having a successful relationship sounds like a much better or more feasible plan than downing three pizzas at one go. Unless, he is Michael Phelps. 

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

5 Lazy Things To Do For Your Girlfriend When You Book Out

How precious those two days out of a week are. Not only do you need to catch up on sleep, you still have to fret over little things like pleasing your girlfriend. It is important to make her feel important and she is your everything, besides the army, your computer games, your soccer match and your mother. Oh, and probably the dog too.

How can a time-starved NS guy make everyone happy and still get to hit the sheets for an undisturbed, sweet and deep sleep?

These 5 tricks may just work for you! They aren’t any run-of-the-mill tricks, but lazy yet extremely nifty stuff you can do for and with that special girl in your heart. All in a matter of hours!

1. Watch a DVD. Though old-fashioned, but is really a good way for both of you to relax together. Loosen up the atmosphere by having only warm light, and maybe some nice and yummy titbits to go along. Best part is: you get to doze off comfortably on her laps, and I don’t think she’ll be too crazy over this under such a circumstance. She might find the look of satisfaction on your face as you are floating in your dreamland so cute and irresistible! Good way to bring out her maternal instinct, I say!

2. Give her a bear hug. Not any type of casual ones, but a real, big, tight, long and hard hug. The hug should be the type where you will normally give it to someone whom you haven’t met in the last century or so. Such intensity will surely melt away any grievances she may have on the amount of time spent with her, because it makes her feel she’s the most special person in your heart. Hug is a wonderful language of love!

3. Rub it on. Give her a short yet ultra-relaxing and soothing back massage. As you are doing it, remember to list down all the specific moments when you were in camp and thinking of her. Even if it was just a fleeting second when you mistook your buddy for her at the time when you were totally knocked out.

4. What did she say her love language was? Ask her what is it that you do or say will make her feel loved? For all you know, it could be something very trivial and requires the minimal amount of time and effort from you and not like what you imagined to be. Like, an affectionate “I love you” and a deep, loving look in her eyes. Or just making her a cup of her favourite beverage will give her all the warmth she needs for that week. Don’t be afraid to ask her and find out. It’ll make your job much, much easier, really. 

5. Fly her to the moon! I don’t recommend rockets, because that will burn a hole in the universe without sparing your pocket either. There’s always a better (which means cheap and good) way to achieve goals. Lift her up to the sky with your praises. Telling her she smells good will make her heart flutter. Complimenting on the matching earrings (with her outfit that day) will let her heart skip one beat. Confessing to her that you have fallen in love with her again will probably make her faint. Then your job is done! You are free to do what you want with the rest of your time. A little crafty I know, but if it works, it’s good.

See! You don’t have to bring her to the beach and surprise her with big, red, juicy and sweet Korean strawberries and that bubbly champagne. You don’t have to have a candle-lit dinner complete with a personal violinist and a capella group especially at your service. You don’t have to play your guitar under her window place and belt our love songs all night long.

But, if you have the budget, time, and energy…. I leave it up to your imagination guys. 

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

How Cookhouse Food Helps To Win A War

Last week Stuart, my sister and I had dinner with a friend. Somehow or rather, our conversation drifted to NS life. Such a digression should be considered natural now, when I’m dining with a guy friend. Because they’ll be grilled by me for juicy gossip or stories for me to blog here! (cue: sinister laughter here)

The two men started their reminiscence into the past, and frankly, some bits were far from glamorous. For the first time, I actually felt that listening to the NS stories can be interesting. Maybe finally they are stories and not just strings of sentences made up of nothing but jargon, NS jargon and more jargon.

Because they talked about a common love – food! How the cookhouse used to be so yucky to the standard it has now. Then I said something which would render me the most-hated person on earth. I mean, I thought what I said made plenty of sense, though not really popular or high in empathy. Blame it on me that I was using logic to look at the issue then.

Ok, this was what I said: “Shouldn’t cookhouse food be yucky? I thought it should be a simulation of war times, and the army won’t expect to have good food to eat during war right?”

Ok, you can start throwing rotten eggs at me now.

The two men stared at me as if they were ready to swallow me whole for sprouting such hugely-unbelievable-nonsense and gave me a look that screamed I-can’t-believe-you-actually-have-the-heart-to-say-that! I almost thought I was a criminal on death-row.

“No no no, then you’re wrong. Cookhouse food should be a luxury, so that we’ll be motivated to win and come back to eat nice food,” my friend immediately jumped in to prove me wrong after those seconds (I thought they were hours) of glaring, while Stuart shook his head in response to what I said and nodded fervently to what the friend said.

“Oh, you mean it is supposed to be a motivation factor for you guys to fight?” I asked in earnest.

“Yes, that should be the way. So when we are in the jungle fighting, we think of the good food at the cookhouse and we will do what we can to win the battle so that we can go back faster.”

“Oh I see, ok, if it’s in this case then I can see why. Ya, cookhouse should serve yummy food, ya ya.”

Something like this, I hope…

I hope my quick acceptance of this idea and even quicker ditching of my initial ‘opinion’ is a saving grace to keep my life.

How can I not know this concept? Haven’t I heard of and seen how the adage “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” works almost every time it is applied?

Dangling the carrot may still be the way to go. This reminds me of a joke that came through the email, which portrays how a man hired a company to help him lose weight. The concept is very simple, basic and definitely practical - making use of a man’s biological urge which, when stimulated, can be such a huge driving force (if you’re thinking of sex, I didn’t say it. You imagined so!) that not even the American President can stop him.

While away from values like going hungry is a strong motivator, delicious, warm, mouth-watering home-cooked food proves to be more lethal in luring the fighter spirit in these guys to want to go home safe and sound.

I remember how I would be in a delightful mood the whole day in school or at work just because I knew my mum would be preparing my favourite dish that night. Something simple like this made my day. Till now it still has such a healing effect.

Food is heavenly.

Who knows, if you are buddy with the cookhouse guy, he may whip up some specialty for you during his free time! Seriously I don’t know if this can be done, but I’m inclined to believe it might be, because I know how powerful bonding among human beings is, especially in a place like an army camp. 

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

Sultan is King!

It’s the durian season, if you haven’t already seen it, smelt it or tasted it. Barred from the king of the fruits due to my cough, I only had my share of ogling at these spiky beauties while sucking back my drooling saliva. This was a bad feeling. Very bad. 

Then I decided that enough is enough! I’m not going to sit back and watch anymore. My body told me that perhaps, with the nutrients from durians, I’ll be able to recover fully at a faster rate. I live by this dictum: when in doubt, trust your body. 

So I did.

Was I glad I did! On the night I made this brave decision, my sister, a friend and I ventured to Geylang for durians! Yay! Very coincidentally, we went to a new stall and our friend bumped into his friend, who happened to know one of the guys at this stall.

So quick introductions were made (this is great, that means we’ll have very yummy durians for sure!) and my friend’s friend asked his friend to treat us well. What a nice way to begin my durian feast after such a long ban.

The durian guy, let’s call him Mr. A, asked us what type of durians do we like. Do you know that there are so many new breeds in the market now? What used to be the king like D24 has to make way for other more superior choices.

We told him we just want to eat good durians, he said ok.

After a while, he came with one rather big one. With no time to waste, we dived in. Hmm… heaven. I think I knocked out for a second before coming back to life. I was told that was Sultan King. Wha, Sultan King. (Never heard before, but really delicious)

We went back again the next night and explored the “mountain cat king” (mao shan wang) which seemed to get high ratings from durian connoisseurs. My sister’s colleague even declared that she would not eat any other durian except “mao shan wang”. We had to sample it.

I tasted it, and didn’t take long to decide I still prefer Sultan King. The latter left a bitter after taste in my tongue, which I don’t really appreciate frankly. Who does? Isn’t the smell in our fingernails enough to remind us of the guilty treat we had at close to midnight? 

Anyway, I wanted to talk about this because I’d like to show our appreciation to this guy. No doubt he is a “mutual friend”, his level of service was commendable. When we feedback to him the “mao shan wang” durian tasted funny (according to my sis who had eaten it before somewhere), though he gave us an explanation, but seeing the look on our faces, he offered to exchange it for us with another Sultan King.

Eventually, we finished the “mao shan wang” because the taste wasn’t that funny after all. My sister asked for tissue paper on the first night, and he gave us well, toilet roll. So on the second night, my sister asked, rather shyly, if they have tissue? He hesitated for a while, and said ok he’ll get it for us.

Viola! A new box of Kleenex was passed to us minutes later! It was only on our way back that we realised he must have bought it from his neighbour’s drug store! Gosh, he’s really a nice man.

He even went to the extent or ordering drinks for us from the neighbouring coffee shop so that we could enjoy our durians without dying from dehydration.

Plus, the durians he picked for us were really yummy! Heavenly…. I must say. 

And he can be sure of our loyalty to his stall from now on. No doubts about it. We’ll blow our trumpets too!

Good service has to be rewarded, agree? No, we’re not going to boast about the tissue paper episode, less his kindness gets abused. We really ran out of our tissue paper that night, ok?

Last but not least, my cough did get better. So, my body is right after all. 

Monday, July 28, 2008

What’s Wrong With Local TV Drama?

I’ve been an avid fan of local TV drama since I knew what this thing called a television set was.

I could sing all the songs and memorise the lyrics by heart by the last episode. Usually I achieved that way before.

I must have enjoyed those serials then. Looking at the numbers, I guess one can say that. Yet, when I recall all those drama that I’ve watched, which one is my favourite? Or is there any particular show that has left a deep impression on me, or has moved me so much that I would be thinking about it for days or even weeks after it has ended?

Instead, I can be so shaken (yes I use the term shaken because some dramas actually got me shook up with their unpredictability and a sudden twist and turn in their plot) by the dramas from places like Hong Kong, Taiwan, Japan, Korea and US.

Seems like all except this country that I call my own, Singapore.

Why?

I did a bit of analysis and discovered some points, or rather differences between them. For easy reference, let’s call the local drama the “usual one” while the ones that really moved me, the “shaking ones”.

The most obvious one I noticed was that the “shaking ones” made use of music to their benefit a lot of times. Music, or the theme songs really created a powerful effect for a viewer to easily relate to the story, or those particular moments when they were played throughout the drama.

Even when the show has ended a year (or much longer), whenever I hear the songs, I remember those dramatic moments, literally. Songs are great anchors, and too bad the “usual ones” didn’t notice this yet.

I can’t really say much about the way a drama is directed because technically I’m not a director. But it’s just an observation that I had. The ways the dramas have been directed differ in each country, and it’s not difficult to see some standard patterns emerging after watching a few serials.

But I can feel that how a director directs a drama can really score or deduct points on how sensational the show will turn out to be.

Another reason I thought could be the intensity of the emotions that the plot engages a viewer in. Not that I’m into those where the female or male lead has to contract a terminal illness and thus create lots of hoo-ha around him or her but rather the way the characters develop and the passionate relationship they share with the other roles in the show.

Hence, when a viewer’s time and emotion has been invested into that person, our feelings get swayed together with how he or she develops into. I guess local TV drama tend to lack this. What’s the reason I really can’t say for sure, but I do feel this way.

Oh, one more point to add. Chemistry between the actors! I guess it’s also got to do with how the characters develop so they can build up their on-screen chemistry and really let their roles do the talking.

I guess at the end of the day, when the plots contain some extremity, be it startling, melodramatic, sensationalist, plain hilarious, or a total unpredictable twist, plus a strong cast, then I will be shaken by the show and left there stoned for a few days, wondering why that happened to that lead and why they did that to him or her!

Yes, when some emotions have been ruffled, I guess that’s when the drama is a successful one.

I’m still waiting for a local drama to put me on such a roller-coaster…